A New Term for Friendship
by Partners In Fanfic
Summary: A little oneshot in which Steve learns the highest form of friendship, and Danny sacrifices some of his Jersey pride to say thank you.  Rated T for minor language


**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HAWAII FIVE-0. ALSO, THE PHRASE '2 AM' AND ITS MEANING BELONG COMPLETELY TO SARAH DESSEN. -bows-_**

**A/N:****** Hi there! EAJP here (Half of Partners in Fanfic). This is just another little Hawaii Five-0 oneshot I cooked up after reading Sarah Dessen's

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><p>"Danny, I think you're going to really owe us for this."<p>

"Really, Steven? _I'm_ going to owe you guys for moving around a few boxes? I'd like to consider this a sort of repayment for all the near-death experiences you put me through these past few months."

Danny, after enduring Steve's digs about his crappy apartment, finally broke down and bought a house, albeit small, closer to the coast and with enough rooms to accommodate both Grace _and_ the little baby Williams on the way.

So, while Rachel and Grace were visiting Rachel's relatives in England for a few weeks, Danny decided it would be best to get as much of the new house set up as he could so as not to add any stress to Rachel. This, of course, meant that he recruited Chin, Kono, and Steve to help him do some of the heavy lifting (and the decorating – turns out Kono knows as much about interior design as she does surfing) for the weekend.

"Near-death experiences? You got a couple of flesh wounds, let's not exaggerate here." Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yes, flesh wounds in firefights with many men armed with guns twice the size of my Sig! Sorry we aren't all completely calm in defending ourselves from machine guns with knives or rocks or whatever it is you people do. And don't even get me started with that biochemical weapon exposure you somehow managed to avoid!" Danny glared at Steve, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing.

Once he saw who it was, his face softened a bit. "Excuse me G.I. Joe, but I need to take this. Just put those boxes in the kitchen, would ya?"

As Danny stepped over to answer his phone (obviously to talk to Rachel and Grace), Chin, Kono, and Steve headed into the kitchen with their boxes.

"Nice place," Kono commented, looking out the window over the kitchen sink.

"Never thought I'd have to help set the place up, though," Steve muttered, moving around another set of boxes they already brought in.

Chin laughed at his oblivious friend. "You complain now."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Steve asked, glancing up at Chin.

"Like you wouldn't have ended up staying over here one day next week until some ungodly hour helping him install the flat screen," Chin replied.

Steve looked at Kono with a confused expression.

"He means you're his two A.M. brah," Kono clarified.

"My what?"

Kono grinned. "Your two A.M. It's a term my friends and I used to use. It's basically a term for the one person you know who would even answer their phone and two in the morning and come help you out no matter what happened. And you're Danny's, and he's yours."

Chin nodded solemnly. "Highest form of friendship, brah. And everyone's got one."

Steve glowered, "I would not get up at two A.M. to help him. I doubt he even does anything that would require my help at two A.M. It's not like any of the bakeries around here are open then."

Kono let a smirk slip, knowing Steve didn't understand the point – yet. "Everyone says that about it. You never realize it until it happens." With that, she strode back out front to find more boxes.

Steve looked at Chin. "I'm not his two A.M." He sounded almost desperate to make them agree with that.

Chin shook his head sagely. "Sure you're not, brah. But think about it: if it were two in the morning and you needed help, who would you call? And who would you expect to call _you_?"

**H50**

The irony of the moment was borderline funny as, exactly four days after his conversation with Chin and Kono in the kitchen, Steve McGarrett found himself crawling around behind a TV stand doing none other than helping Danny install a flat screen TV.

"Did you plug the wires in the back?" Danny asked, peering around the TV stand.

"Working on that, sir," Steve mocked.

"Sir?" Danny asked. Steve didn't even have to look to see that Danny's eyebrows were up and his hands were about to start flailing. "Don't you dare go Army on me, Super SEAL, I don't think I can take it."

Steve gritted his teeth. "Navy, Danny. It's the Navy."

"And the more you keep telling me that, the more I'll keep calling it the army. Are you done yet?"

Steve sighed. "Really, Danny? And you say I'm impatient. But yes, I am." He slowly backed out of the space behind the TV, careful not to bump into anything that might send Danny into another ranting fit.

"I never said you're impatient. I said you're a Neanderthal animal with father issues and an unhealthy love for armed combat."

Steve emerged from the cramped space and stood up, choosing to ignore Danny's comment. "Alright now! Let's turn this thing on!" Not that he would admit it, but Steve was kind of excited to watch some sports on a forty-six inch HD screen.

"Whoa there, Seabiscuit. Just because we plugged it in doesn't mean it has cable in it. That's a battle for a different day. Hopefully tomorrow if the stupid cable company doesn't decide to show up three days late."

Danny shook his head as he watched Steve try to hide his disappointment. "You mean I just crawled around on a floor for an hour and I don't even get to watch it?"

Danny glared at him. "Not today."

"Do I at least get a beer out of the deal?" Steve asked, already on his way to the kitchen.

"'I guess I can spare you one." Danny ran over to the fridge and pulled out a six-pack and took it out onto the patio. The two men plopped into the two Adirondack chairs (the only furniture on the porch) that came with the house and opened their beer bottles.

Steve glanced around. "This isn't a bad place."

"Yeah, well, it's not in New Jersey, but it'll do."

"Very honorable that you decided to stay here."

"It's for Grace. Don't get any ideas that I actually like it here."

Steve bit back a response, instead opting to let silence fall over the partners.

After a while, Danny spoke up. "Thanks for all you did with the house, McGarrett."

McGarrett smirked. "Exactly how difficult for you was that? I mean, just give me some idea of how much of your Jersey pride you had to give up to actually thank me for doing something for you."

Danny glared at him. "You know what? Let's go back to our not talking arrangement. I really liked that."

"Oh come on, Danno, I was joking." Steve pondered for a moment. "Besides, I'm you're two AM."

This broke Danny out of his angry trail of thoughts. "You're my _what_? What the hell kind of Navy acronym-code talk is that?"

Steve grinned somewhat sheepishly. "It's not a Navy phrase. It's just something that – never mind."

Danny waved his hand dismissively. "I don't even want to know. Just stop talking and be happy I thanked you. Oh, and don't call me Danno."

Danny managed to shoot a half-hearted glare at Steve before he had to turn his head to keep him from seeing his smirk. Because he did in fact know what a 'two AM' was, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was a term that surprisingly described their partnership perfectly.

Because at two AM the only person one should call is the person they trust the most.

And besides, it's not like Danny hadn't called Steve at weirder hours than two in the morning already.

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><p><strong>Alright now...Like it? Love it? Despise it with a fiery passion? Reviews are love and coffee. =)<strong>

**One more little ramble here...I'm working on another H50 story (oneshot, as usual). It has a lot of banter like Taste of Jersey. Not sure if I'll publish it or not, but just be on the lookout!  
><strong>


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